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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23463586">Three Ficlets of Family</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curator/pseuds/Curator'>Curator</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Voyager</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Family, Ficlets, Forgiveness, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Rebirth, heavy as a feather</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:00:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23463586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curator/pseuds/Curator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A trio of mini-fics that focus on family:</p><p>• Seven of Nine wakes up in the <i>La Sirena</i>  sickbay and sees the Doctor’s EMH progeny.<br/>• Deanna Troi chooses her second child’s name and Lwaxana hesitates to meet the new Kestra.<br/>• Narissa’s anger toward Narek flows outward and inward ... fueled by her own pain.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Deanna Troi &amp; Lwaxana Troi, Narek &amp; Narissa Rizzo, The Doctor (Star Trek) &amp; Seven of Nine, William Riker/Deanna Troi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Between Absolute Candor and Stardust City Rag, a Reunion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Her nostrils shuddered with a sharp intake of air. Every starship, everywhere — sickbay always smelled the same.</p><p>“You had a head injury. You’re going to be fine.”</p><p>Seven’s vision was blurred, but the person bent over her biobed shimmered, her ocular implant’s indication the medical worker was a hologram.</p><p>“I’m an EMH,” the hologram said. “I can tell you’re having a problem with your vision. Give me a moment.”</p><p>The hologram snapped into view, a medical tool in his hand.</p><p>“Better?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“I’ll alert the captain.”</p><p>Seven hadn’t seen an EMH in years. This one fussed over her with eerie concern, his fingers directing a scanner over old injuries as well as new. She hoped he hadn’t fixed them all. She wanted scars on the outside, not just within.</p><p>She wanted to be hurt again.</p><p>“Please,” she said. “Give me five seconds.”</p><p>The EMH’s forehead creased in confusion. “For what?”</p><p>Seven pulled herself to sitting and tapped for computer access. The security protocols were simple, easily overridden.</p><p>“Hey!” the EMH’s face slackened just before it changed.</p><p>Seven’s teeth found the inside of her cheek and she bit down, hard.</p><p>Bald head with a ring of dark hair.</p><p>Blue-shouldered uniform.</p><p>Lips pursed in irritation.</p><p>“Please state the nature of the medical emergency.”</p><p>It wasn’t the Doctor. Seven knew that. It was an old file, buried deep in the subroutines of any modern EMH.</p><p>But, to see him again, like this.</p><p>Seven spoke through the tightness in her throat. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more. I’m so sorry.”</p><p>The Doctor’s head cocked.</p><p>Then his face slackened and changed.</p><p>“Right then,” the new EMH said. “I’ll call Captain Rios.”</p><p>“Yes, doctor,” Seven said, a flex of her jaw the only hint of the five seconds she had erased from the EMH’s memory. “Thank you, doctor. I appreciate your time and attention.”</p><p>The kind words were only partly for him, but this EMH’s chest puff of pride was both familiar and achingly foreign. Seven reminded herself that that time was another life, another person, another friend ... lost.</p><p>She told herself to focus on today. There was nothing to be gained by looking back.</p><p>Nothing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Long Before Nepenthe, a New-Old Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lwaxana had been against it, honestly. Too much of a painful reminder, she had said. But Deanna was adamant.</p><p>“Imzadi.” Will’s hands lingered, as they often did in those days, on his wife’s full belly. “Is this worth upsetting your mother? There are plenty of names in the galaxy.”</p><p>“Oh, I see how it is.” Deanna moved Will’s hand to where the baby’s kicks were strong. “You get to choose Thad’s name with the promise I get full rein for the second baby and now you renege?”</p><p>“Would you believe I was bluffing?”</p><p>Her lips found his. “Never.”</p><p>When Kestra was born, Lwaxana had excuses.</p><p>The journey to meet the <i>Titan</i> would take too long.</p><p>She had diplomatic obligations. </p><p>The Chalice of Rixx had been leaking and she simply had to ensure its repair before she did anything else.</p><p>So when Kestra was three months old, Will asked a certain admiral for a bit of leeway in the <i>Titan’s</i> schedule and, with Admiral Picard’s approval, the ship warped toward Betazed.</p><p>Deanna told Will she would beam down with Kestra and comm him if she needed anything.</p><p>“No security detail?” His blue eyes twinkled, but his frown was unmistakable.</p><p>“It will be fine.”</p><p>And when Lwaxana walked into her living room and sensed her granddaughter with the energy and life force she had mourned for so many years, it was more than fine.</p><p>It was embraces and telepathic thank-yous and a thousand new understandings between mother and daughter — and granddaughter. </p><p>It was a love Lwaxana had been afraid to allow and it was an echo of the child she never thought she would hold again.</p><p>It was Lwaxana saying, telepathically, “You were right, Little One,” and Deanna replying, “I love you, Mother,” and Kestra, baby Kestra who wouldn’t speak or communicate telepathically for months, breaking into her first belly laugh because even an infant could sense the joy around her.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Before Any of It, a Broken Thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She knew what people thought, what they said. </p><p>“Narissa and her brother are ... very close.”</p><p>“Narissa and her brother are ... rather affectionate.”</p><p>“Narissa and her brother are ... having sex.”</p><p>None of it was true.</p><p>Narissa hated Narek.</p><p>Aunt Rahmda favored the shy, slim boy who was always content to play quietly. Narissa was the roughneck, the sibling who broke everything she touched — tan zhekran boxes, pixmit card arrangements, model starships.</p><p>When Aunt Rahmda would be sick with a cold, Narissa would burn the soup and trip bringing a tray to the bedroom. Narek would tiptoe in with a flower from the yard and their aunt would hold it to her nose and praise his thoughtfulness.</p><p>Narissa wanted that magic, that ability to charm, to delight with the unnecessary, to pick the prettiest flower instead of the heartiest soup. </p><p>But she didn’t know how to ask. </p><p>So she stood too close, breathed too deeply, hugged too hard.</p><p>And when she saw the looks of disgust from her brother, from everyone, she pretended the one thing she hadn’t broken was herself.</p>
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